


Dulce et Decorum Est

by eruriku



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pacific Rim Fusion, F/M, Gen, Pacific Rim AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-24
Updated: 2016-08-24
Packaged: 2018-08-10 21:11:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7861291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eruriku/pseuds/eruriku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How sweet and honorable to die for one's country. Aka, the Pacific Rim AU that nobody asked for. Part 3/?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. part 1

_…My friend, you would not tell with such high zest_  
_To children ardent for some desperate glory_  
_The old Lie; Dulce et Decorum est_  
_Pro patria mori._

\- Wilfred Owen

**June 2015  
Los Angeles, California, USA**

When the Los Angeles Shatterdome recruits three new rookies to pilot their newest Mark 2 Jaeger, they also recruit the youngest pilot in history. Annabeth Chase is seventeen years too old to start pursuing dreams of heroics and seventeen years too young to launch herself headfirst into fighting those ugly devils herself. She’s got nothing to her name but a backpack filled with a few changes of clothes, a passport, some cash, her trusty dagger, and a worn-out postcard from her father. She says she doesn’t need anything else.

Nothing else, except her two traveling companions.

At 22 years, Thalia Grace is as feisty and headstrong as the day Annabeth met her when she first stepped foot in the foster home at San Francisco. She’s a little reckless around the edges, and that mouth of hers is always getting them into all sorts of trouble, but the rebellious glint in her eyes and her temperamental reputation belies her quick-thinking and resourcefulness in the front lines. More times than Annabeth can count, Thalia’s gotten them out of some close calls and given them even more victories. If there’s anyone she can trust, it’s Thalia.

And Luke, of course.

Luke Castellan. The one who gives the orders. He’s the middle pilot and they call him the Middle Man, all of which are technically unimportant but also kind of make sense to the trio because he’s the one who started it all. The first one in the foster home, the one who gave Annabeth and Thalia a family to call their own at the tender ages of seven and twelve, not to mention the one who led the Great Foster Home Escape a few years later.

There’s a rumour that when Marshal Brunner was seeking out candidates to pilot Crescent Enigma, his first choice was Luke Castellan, 24 years old, skilled, young, and eager to fight for his planet. Normally people take one good look at the guy - tall, ruggedly handsome, physically built to kick ass - and believe it. He looks like a natural hero. In other cases, any and all doubts about his capabilities are quickly squashed in the training ring, and after their first (successful) mission against a Category II kaiju, there’s nothing left to be said. The kid isn’t just “cut out” for this gig (this kaiju-fighting, life-risking, planet-saving gig), he’s made for it.

They all are.

 

 


	2. part 2

**February 2016  
Anchorage, Alaska, USA**

The PPDC gets a lot of flack for recruiting so young, but that doesn’t stop Bianca and Nico from ditching their live-in babysitter (Dad calls Alecto their “Special Private Assistant” but Nico calls bullshit, she’s _definitely_ a babysitter) and using up every penny of their combined savings to travel across the country - taking a melange of trains, buses, taxis, and sometimes even hitchhiking - in order to train at the Jaeger Academy.

When the attacks happened last year, Nico and Bianca had been relatively safe and sound in Maine where their father had left them before he had to tend to constructing the Shatterdomes in Panama and Mexico, but they couldn’t just Wait & See how everything would end. Maybe it had been their combined ADHD or maybe it’d been in their blood (after all, as soon as their dad got the call to help the fight against the monsters, he’d left the following morning), but it had been a no-brainer for the Di Angelo siblings. They’d join the fight, too. Thirteen- and fifteen-years-old is a _little_ young, sure, but if the Los Angeles Shatterdome was putting the fate of the world in a seventeen-year-old’s hands, then maybe the world’s getting desperate.

At least, that’s what Nico thinks since the head honcho of the academy doesn’t even blink an eye when he accepts them into his training program.

Deputy Commissioner D (that’s how he’s introduced and if that’s not weird enough, he always demands that recruits call him Mr. D for whatever reason) is average-sized and middle-aged, a little on the pudgy side and might have invented the word ‘snarky’. He’s always got some poor, overworked intern following him around with a clipboard and a six-pack of Diet Coke so that Mr. D’s left hand is never without a can, while his right hand is always pointing at passerby recruits and telling them to “Drop and give me 20, rookie!” or “You wouldn’t be laughing inside a kaiju’s stinkin’ ass mouth, would you?”

He’s a little eccentric, to say the least.

Months later into their training, Nico witnesses some stupid, cocky rookie from New Jersey stand up to Mr. D, calling him out for being a “lazy, jacked-up, old fraud” and he notices that the canteen has never been more silent, and Mr. D has never looked more fearsome. He and Bianca remember that day not only because it’s the day before their batch would finish their training and graduate, but also because of Mr. D’s words right before Jersey boy pretty much craps his pants and leaves the academy without a word.

“Listen, kid, I don’t need your sympathy or your admiration. I don’t need this. In fact, I probably don’t even need you in this rust-bucket. All _I_ need to be is a _fixed_ point. Your trainer. And all everyone _else_ in this hell-hole of a training academy needs to be is a _compliant fighter_ if we’re gonna survive the rest of this year. And if you can’t be that, then you can get the hell out of my institution, do I make myself clear?”

Nico carries that with him after his six months of training, into the gaping vastness of the Anchorage Shatterdome, and all the way into the cockpit of Stygian Reaper, the Mark 2 Jaeger he and Bianca are assigned a few years later. But when they’re launched on their first mission (off the Alaskan coast, Category III), Nico feels less like a ‘compliant fighter’ and more like a boy of a soldier.

And two hours later, when the kaiju is ripped in pieces, its remnants smoking something ghastly on the shores of the bay, he wonders what happened to the boy that all that’s left is a soldier.

 


	3. part 3

**May 2019  
Lima, Peru**

Calypso has always been told that patience is a virtue, and _honestly_ , she thinks she’s plenty patient. But everybody’s got a limit and she’s almost reaching hers. This time, she isn’t just mad, she’s _furious_.

She stomps up to Marshal García’s office and huffs, taking a deep, placating breath that does nothing to soothe her MadFurious nerves, and reaches up to bang her fist on the metal of the door. Before her knuckles can make contact, the door swings open to reveal Lieutenant Hedge, who stops abruptly in his steps before giving her one good look and sighing.

“Where’s Marshal García?” Calypso demands as he steps out of the office. Hedge shoots her a dangerous look and she recollects herself.

“Where is Marshal García, _sir_?” Calypso corrects herself in a calmer voice. Apparently they’re both having pretty terrible days, and it’s only 9:15 in the morning.

“García’s busy right now, kid. What do you want?”

Calypso bristles for a moment. She’d intended to bring this matter up with the Marshal himself but she’s always trusted Lieutenant Hedge. He always has her back when her patients in the Med Centre are being less than cooperative and more than rowdy, and he knows when she needs space to do her job. And of course, he was one of the few officers who had vouched for her quick promotion when she was still just an intern over a year ago. Now she's in charge of an entire section (albeit one that’s smaller than average) in the Med Centre with her own small group of assistant nurses. She can trust him.

“I meant to take this up with the marshal himself but it’s about my new group of interns, sir.”

“Aw, this again,” Hedge sighs, one hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Lieutenant, it’s been two weeks, and these interns–”

“–are your allocated assistants, simple as that.”

“ _Please_ , sir, hear me out,” Calypso gives Hedge a piercing stare that almost makes the lieutenant question his own position but he regains his composure and squares his shoulders.

“Alright, doc, hit me. What’s your complaint _this_ time?”

Calypso takes a deep breath, knowing this is her one shot to make some changes around her side of the Med Centre.

“Alright, I have little to no qualms about Jason Grace, he’s an excellent assistant: patient, hardworking – though he sometimes gets certain drugs mixed up every now and then – but him, I’m okay with. Piper McLean, I … okay, generally she’s wonderful; really lovely girl and incredible bedside manner. Every single patient she works with me on hasn’t put up a single fight. She’s like a walking miracle.” Calypso stops to take a breath.

“But…?” Hedge prompts.

“She … gets distracted more easily than Jason,” Calypso says, looking away for a second. “But for the most part, it’s only because the last intern, that — that _Valdez_ character – that she doesn’t get her work done.”  

The lieutenant frowns. It’s not like Calypso to get so amped up, much less _stutter_ , so this _must_ be a big deal.

“The Valdez kid? I heard he’s the smartest one of that group,” Hedge says, which was probably the Absolute Wrongest Thing To Say.

“If by smart, you mean smart _ass_ , then you’d be correct!” Calypso snaps. Hedge quirks an eyebrow at her – not at her semi-insubordination – just at her.

“Sir,” Calypso adds hastily at the end, a panicked look in her eyes.

“Calm down, doc–”

“–for the last time, sir, I’m not a doctor yet–”

“–and run it by me again so I know that you’re not wasting my time?” Hedge gives Calypso a tired look. He’s already spent too much time on her behavioural issues with the new kids so he needs to wrap this up. “You wanna get rid of Valdez? Is that what you want?”

Calypso swallows. When he puts it that way, it sounds a little harsh, but there’s the truth, out in the open, and it clangs against the metallic walls that make up the halls of the Shatterdome. Maybe she doesn’t want to get _rid_ of Leo Valdez, per se. He _is_ rather bright, damn him, and he has a good heart, such a good, kind heart.

No, she doesn’t want to get _rid_ of him.

She just wants him out of her ward.

“Well, no, sir,” Calypso says, recalling an idea she’d had a few days ago. “I was actually thinking that Perez in Mechanics has been needing a new assistant, right?”

Hedge contemplates this.

“Right…?”

“Right, and Valdez is always spouting off one thing or another about Jaeger designs this and new prototypes that, but he’s also really good at fixing the tools and equipment around the ward.”

“So…?”

“ _So_ , Valdez really knows his stuff and with him helping Perez out, they can make that new Mark 3 design a _reality_ ,” she finishes, waiting with bated breath and hopeful eyes. Hedge hums for a good few seconds before fixing her with a stare.

“You have a point.” Calypso practically squeals in front of the lieutenant.

“I’ll bring it up with Perez and García when I see ‘em later today. See what we can do about putting Valdez in Mechanics. We’ve been needing some new metal on the field.”

It’s all Calypso can do to refrain from pumping her fist in the air and twirling around on the heel of her sneakers.

“But it’s not gonna happen over night. Might take a few days,” Hedge says.

“Not a problem, sir, as long as Leo–I mean, Valdez is, uh, put where he’s needed the most,” Calypso says delicately.

“Uh-huh,” Hedge grunts. “If that’s all you need, then I’ve got 300 recruits to yell at today–”

“Actually,” Calypso calls the lieutenant’s attention back to her. “With all due respect, sir, I’m grateful for the extra help that I asked for, but I’ve been wondering … how come they’re all so young? They’re practically the same age as I am.”

The lieutenant barks out a quick laugh.

“Callie, are you kidding me? You should see the recruits Mr. D’s getting all the way in Alaska! Last I heard they were recruiting as young as thirteen years old!”

Calypso twitches at Hedge’s nickname.

“Please don’t call me that, sir.”

“Oh. Right, sorry. Old habits.”

“But in all seriousness, sir. Are we really so desperate that we’re recruiting this young now?”

The joking light in Lieutenant Hedge’s eyes die out like a flame snuffed out in the darkness and Calypso recalls just how he had gained the limp in his step and why he’s stuck _inside_ the Shatterdome instead of outside in the field, piloting a jaeger like he used to.

“Take a look at the world around you, kid,” Hedge says simply. “We need all the help we can get.”

 


End file.
